


Just Another Day For The Killers

by Ragingstillness



Category: Tokyo Ghoul
Genre: Gen, Poetry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-23
Updated: 2015-12-23
Packaged: 2018-05-08 14:03:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 305
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5499851
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ragingstillness/pseuds/Ragingstillness
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is a Sestina poem I wrote to cope with the recent chapters of Tokyo Ghoul and the Tsukiyama extermination arc. Read and review.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Just Another Day For The Killers

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading, please take the time to leave a review as I am by no means a poet and would love to know what you felt. Also, this poem includes the perspectives of Kanae, Tsukiyama, Kaneki, and Eto. Each stanza is assigned to a character except the last tercet. They are signified by different forms of punctuation and points to you if you can identify which one is which and tell me in a review.

The old child mourns his lost love  
With soul fragmented in the final fight  
Everything breaking: he is left: the son  
Swinging in his servant’s step: sword  
Snatched away: he now has a body to hold.  
As love stands over him: new.

Black, White, Black-White, now Red, a shade new.  
He has traded so many times, love for love.  
Red drops from the roof, too much for cement to hold  
How fruitless, the mutually assured destruction of the fight  
He kneels before him, horror never seen in the eyes of his sword  
It was useless to be the good son.

Since childhood unable to call himself anyone’s son  
to now see the man led away in chains: a new  
Father. Pushed hard: those who live by the sword.  
Until the child it consisted of a concept: love  
that was to be won through a fight.  
Ending with what remains to hold.

How he longed for this rose-scented hold…  
Years spent playing, pretending, a son…  
They were never safe, family taken in a fight…  
He cried alone, until a star christened him with a new…  
name gaining innocent, impossible love…  
He can’t feel the roses anymore through the sword…

So rises the holder of the sword  
which is as mighty as the pen! Hold  
still as I connect your love!  
Three of you, a false son!  
This is the beginning of a new  
story! How soon comes the fight!

Crawling, braced, itching on my back to fight.  
To end my life this will do, the sword.  
I am, once again new  
as I see him hold,  
the now terrified, ancient son  
I never cared enough for his love

The swords are readied for the fight.  
The son in his arms, on his emotions a tighter hold.  
Love to win or lose in a story all new!


End file.
